Approximately 2000 years relative from the present day, on a world that was not Earth, lay a man and a woman. They gently embraced each other under a lone, newly bloomed, cherry tree.

The man, who appeared to be in his late twenties, wore a kimono and hakama typical of a samurai, except that it only had one arm sleeve which left half of his chest bare. It was originally black but had become stained with blood from his enemies and from the many wounds over his body, one of which was fatal. Given these clothes, the man himself was also unique.

The only claim he had to be a samurai was the black katana at his side engraved with Japanese characters. Without this katana, it would be hard to identify him as a samurai as he was ethnically Caucasian. He was well built and had brown hair which included a full beard. He could not claim to have any Asian descent, unlike the woman to his side.

The young lady appeared to be around twenty and incredibly beautiful. Her long black hair pinned with a flower, her dark brown eyes, and porcelain skin easily made her one of the most beautiful women on the continent. However, her skin was dyed red with their blood. One of her previously porcelain arms and most of her clothing, which was that of a Roman servant, were burnt.

In truth, she was not much better off than the man who had embraced her, but her wounds were survivable. However, she did not leave because she could not leave the man. To her, it would be more painful than death.

Around a hundred meters away, the cause of their dire situation lay on the ground. It was a man who appeared to be in his late thirties. Black blood flowed out of the corners of his mouth and battered. The side of his face showed an old badly burned cheek which revealed the few of his teeth that remained. He could barely move his upper body, but that was all he needed.

As he glared at the couple under the cherry tree, his finger moved quickly in the air. Glowing letters appeared where his finger passed by which whispered what he wrote in his voice. However, in the middle of his writing, he heavily coughed as blood erupted from his mouth, which caused the words to fade.

“Damn you, Snow Miko!” He shouted. “How dare you poison me! Damn you, Mahesvara! I’ll pay you back tenfold for my face! Even though I already have a foot in the grave, I’ll bring you both down with me!” He angrily roared before he began to write again.

However, it seemed to fall on deaf ears as the couple was in their private little world. After a short while, the young lady finally broke the silence.

“Shiba, I’m sorry,” She said in a gentle voice as she spoke the name she had given the amnesic man when they met all those years ago.

Shiba had no anger or hatred in his eyes when she spoke these words. Instead, the immense love he felt for her was apparent in his eyes. A slight smile came across his face as it continued to pale.

“Hanahime, it is all right.” He weakly said while he tightly grasped her hand as tears slowly began to run down her face. He took a deep breath as his life faded, and his consciousness grew weak, and he spoke half-consciously. “It’s my fault, my weakness. I was unable to protect what I hold dear again.”

“Again?” Hanahime asked Shiba with a confused look on her face before her eyes widened. “Could it be you have remembered who you are?”

“I…” Shiba started before he blacked out for a moment. But that moment, to him, seemed like an eternity.

Memories flashed before Shiba like a dream before they faded he found himself in a black room with no discernible end.

The first thing he saw was a beautiful woman with golden hair. Her bangs fell between her eyes before it joined the rest of her hair. Her emerald eyes exuberated a gentleness and love for him while her features gave her a sophisticated aura. She seemed youthful and so full of life; But she was dead, killed by a man with blond hair.

In the next moment, he saw another younger girl with golden hair similar to the other except it was tied up in a high ponytail. She had many similar features, but her expression made her look more like a tomboy, which only added to her appeal. She appeared haughty and proud, but her forest-green eyes betrayed her facade.

In the next instant, another girl appeared. Her face was beautiful and sharp, her hair crimson, and her proportions even more significant than the first. The smile she had shown an incredible depth of kindness that could make any heart ache. She lightly brushed aside her hair, which revealed her slightly tipped ears just before another young girl appeared.

This next girl had hair the same color as pure winter snow. Her small frame and perfect face made her comparable to a doll, but the jubilant expression on her face and playfulness in her blue eyes showed she was full of happiness and life. However, her appearance was not one you could call human. On the top of her head were two cat-like ears and she had a cat-like tail that protruded out from behind her that added further to her adorableness.

Next to her appeared yet another woman. Unlike those before her, who seemed to be of Caucasian descent, she had the features of an attractive Mongoloid. Two large needles fixed her dark brown hair into a bun on the back of her head. From this bun came three long strands of hair strung beads attached to them that clicked together as her hair swayed back and forth.

But these four women were also dead, killed by beings who appeared of shadow, death, and destruction. But they were not the last to appear.

Next was a very mature looking woman comparable to the first. However, her red-tinted skin and dark purple hair and eyes hinted that she was not human. From the sides of her head protruded two horns which extended out from her head before they pointed forward at a near 90° angle. Behind her appeared a tail of the same consistency as her skin with a triangle at the tip. Perhaps being labeled as ‘devilish in appearance would not be wrong. However, juxtaposed to her looks, she seemed innocent with a mature beauty comparable only to the first woman. But she too was dead, killed by a Black Dragon.

Next to her appeared a pretty young girl. She looked like a doll, more so than the girl with cat ears. Her face was serene and emotionless, and her hair was black. She appeared to be only around ten years old, yet something about that seemed off. But she too was dead. She died to save him from the Black Dragon and sacrificed her life and lost her very soul to darkness, so that he may live.

Lastly appeared another lady with black hair. She seemed to be half Asian and half Caucasian, yet got the best from both as she was quite beautiful. However, her expression showed that she was, in fact, shy and timid. Her long, black, wavy hair draped over a golden colored bow which glowed with incredible brightness. But she too was dead, killed by a man in black armor, a pale face, and white hair. All of them gone.

They stood there in front of him as his whole body shook with pain and grief as tears fell from his eyes. These amazing women were the ones he loved as friends and companions, who had loved him selflessly even when he promised nothing in return, whom he had failed to protect.

“I’m sorry Freyja, Morgan, Caelia, Shiro, Shalgana, Lucibelle, Cali, Yutsuki. I failed you all. I wasn’t strong enough. I’m sorry.”

At his words, all of them smiled, some minuscule, some exuberant, some mild. All of them together surrounded and embraced him and each other, and he woke up.

Hanahime’s dark brown eyes flickered with concern as she noticed his momentary lapse in consciousness. “Shiba?” She asked again.

“Yes, I have remembered who I am, not everything, but enough. To think that, even in this world, I was called a hero. But I am no hero.” He said as he rested his head back against the cherry tree with a soft sigh before he coughed up some blood.

Concern flashed across Hanahime’s eyes as she lightly touched the wound on his chest. Because of this, she did not see the anger in his eyes; The anger he felt towards himself.

The whole reason he had come here, his entire reason for his continued existence had become an impossible dream, a delusional denial of reality. Not only had he forgotten, he only remembered his now dashed hope as his life drained from him.

“I’m sorry, Hanahime, for you to have such a weak and undeserving husband. I’m not worthy of you.”

“Don’t say that!” Hanahime immediately responded with clenched fists and a hint of anger in her voice. “You don’t get to decide if you’re worthy of me! If not for you, I would have had to have gone through torture and humiliation worse than death. You saved me and loved me more than I could’ve hoped any man to do. So, I promise you that if I have the fortune to be reborn, I shall never know any other man but you. So please promise me that when I am reborn, you will find me and make me your wife in the next life and life after that,” she said as tears streamed down her cheeks.

Shiba looked and saw the stubborn resolve in her eyes. At this point, he could do nothing than accept his Fate.

“I promise,” he said with a slight smile tinged with a hint of self-deprecation.

A gentle smile also appeared over Hanahime’s face as the wind lifted her hair and made her look all the more beautiful before she laid down her head on his chest. “We live together, we die together, and will eternally be together. Not even till death do us part,” she softly said as Shiba struggled to get his arm around her before he pulled her closer.

[If I get another life; if the Well of Souls exists; if I do find her, I must become stronger. Strong enough to never again lose that which is important to me,] He thought as he held her to maintain the small amount of heat shared between them.

Except for the voice from the words the man 100 meters away had written, there was only silence.

“Who are you?” Hannahime asked Shiba softly.

The man 100 meters away had finally stopped as the words glowed with fire before becoming a giant flaming snake which prepared to charge with the intent to destroy them.

“I have been known by many names, but I promise you that I am your Shiba, I am your husband, and I love you. I am the one who has failed time and time again to protect that which I hold dear. I am a man with a broken soul,” he said softly as the flaming snake charged at them. Just before it reached them, and they departed in each other’s embrace, he managed to get one more sentence out. “I am only a Fake Hero.”